


the charm of masquerades

by chasinggstars



Series: twelve days of jeongcheol christmas [5]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Christmas Eve, Costume Parties & Masquerades, M/M, Slow Dancing, Strangers, jeonghan hates people but jeonghan is also a good friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28409955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasinggstars/pseuds/chasinggstars
Summary: day 5:jeonghan hates parties but he loves shua more. thankfully, he meets a companion to share his night with.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan
Series: twelve days of jeongcheol christmas [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073702
Kudos: 26





	the charm of masquerades

**Author's Note:**

> i want chocolate croissants

One thing that must be established first and foremost is that Yoon Jeonghan did not like parties. He avoided going to crowded locations unless completely necessary and was not a big fan of social interactions in general. So, to say that he disliked parties, aka large social gatherings with lots and lots of noises and colours and people trying to talk to him (his otherworldly beauty attracted way too much attention for his own taste)? Not an understatement at all.

Then what was he doing, on Christmas eve, when he would much rather be at home watching holiday movies and eating chocolate croissants, at what was probably the largest party at the fanciest hotel in Seoul? He blamed it on Hong Jisoo. His good-for-nothing, filthy rich, equally antisocial best friend. The only difference between the two of them was that Jisoo actually _cared_. About appearances, political relationships, keeping daddy’s money safe.

When Jisoo had first called, asking for his company, Jeonghan had been extremely adamant about _no_. For obvious reasons. But unlike usual, where he would simply say okay and hang up and that would be it, end of discussion, he kept pleading. It’ll be a masquerade, he said. No one will recognise your face, he said. Just stand in the corner eating hors d’oeuvres, he said. And, like a fool, Jeonghan agreed.

So here he was now, with a black mask that covered the top half of his face and adorned with a rim of glittering sequins and a red feather plume tied securely around his head, snacking on fancy appetisers while not-so-inconspicuously trying to hide behind the curtains. Jisoo had disappeared ages ago, called on by his parents to go smile and nod along to whatever boomer bullshit some rich bitch was spouting.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to these sorts of gatherings. In fact, he was all too familiar with them. After all, it was at one of these parties that he had met Jisoo. Back when he was younger, and his parents still thought he was their angelic, adorable, definitely straight baby, he would be dragged to all sorts of bourgeois balls to have his cheeks pinched and showed off by his parents. Of course, that all came to an end once he was caught sneaking off with some cute waiter. His parents were too soft-hearted to cut him out of the will, but his public appearances were replaced by his sister. Not that he minded much.

With not much else to do, he aimlessly flitted about the place, always sticking close to the walls. He had to be honest, the place was really well decorated, even considering the budget that probably went into it. Red and gold were draped across the room from ceiling to polished marble floor, chandeliers sparkling in the yellowish light. Waiters holding silver platters milled about the place, ready and waiting to attend to every need.

Already exhausted, both mentally and physically, he slipped backstage past the orchestra in search of a place where he could sit quietly and not be bothered.

What he did not expect to find was another male, dressed impeccably in a black tuxedo, already sat on some chairs.

At first, he thought he was another musician or someone, waiting to go onstage, but he looked a bit too guilty and panicked for that to be true. The other male hastily smacked a hand over his mouth to keep quiet, and his dark brown eyes visible through his gold and white mask were darting around frantically.

“I’m sorry, I just came back here for a moment because my legs were getting tired, but my parents were busy talking to someone else and I couldn’t find any empty seats at the table,” he said in a hushed whisper.

He had a nice voice, rich and smooth in texture.

“It’s okay. I also came back here because I was getting tired,” he replied with a slight smile, casually taking a seat as well. The other male relaxed visibly, posture slumping and a small sigh escaping his cherry red lips.

“Are you going to tell me your name?” Jeonghan asked him, mostly out of courtesy.

“Are you going to tell me yours?” A beat of silence as Jeonghan contemplated the question.

“No. That’s the charm of masquerades, isn’t it? You never know who you’re talking to. Who knows, I might be the best friend of Mr Hong’s son, and you might be the son of the president for all I know.”

“Then, no, I won’t tell you my name either.” A dangerous smirk was drawn on the stranger’s lips. “As you, said, who knows? Maybe I’m the president’s son, and maybe you’re Mr Hong’s son’s best friend. Though, I’m pretty confident I heard Mr Hong’s son preferred not to make any acquaintances in these circles.”

“Then perhaps that’s not who I am.”

The stranger gave a slight shrug in return, and empty small talk that would be rendered irrelevant as soon as the night was over was exchanged between the two.

After a considerable amount of time had passed, Jeonghan stood up, slightly stretching his limbs. He had wasted as much time as he could back there, and Jisoo would probably be wondering where he had disappeared off to. Well, it wasn’t like Jisoo wasn’t used to his antics already, but still. Bidding the stranger he’d probably never encounter again farewell, he slipped past the orchestra once again. The song had now moved from the previously jovial and upbeat one to a slightly melancholier one, and the dancers on the dance floor had switched to holding their partners close and swaying to the tune.

He was waved over to a table in a crimson tablecloth by Jisoo, but he was soon called to make more pleasantries again, leaving Jeonghan alone once more. So, there he was, sitting alone at a table for ten, trying to act natural and desperately wishing for the party to end so he could go home to his soft, welcoming bed.

Until someone else approached him.

It was the stranger from earlier, evidently having finally crawled out of the backstage area. The aura he gave off completely contrasted from the meek, nervous man from before, scared of being caught resting, Jeonghan almost didn’t recognise him, save for the mask. The man that stood in front of him now had a confident air about him, charisma and suavity oozing from every movement.

“Fancy seeing you again,” Jeonghan said.

“Fancy that indeed. Say, would you mind a dance?” The stranger bowed slightly, outstretching one hand for Jeonghan to either accept or decline. He pondered it for a moment, before thinking, why the fuck not. He was bored and had way too much time to kill.

Taking the man’s hand, he stood from his seat and allowed himself to be led to the dance floor. Somewhere between his departure from backstage and now, the song had once again shifted, still keeping the slow beat but slightly more uplifting. Many couples now were somewhere in the middle of slow dancing and waltzing.

Jeonghan wrapped his arms lightly around the stranger’s neck, and after a split second of surprise, he felt a pair of arms snaking around his waist as well. Together, they swayed to the music, moving slowly across the dance floor. He swore he saw Jisoo looking at him with at first a confused face, though it soon twisted into a mask of betrayal, but he chose to ignore it. He was the one who had been dragged here against his own will, so he got to have some fun as well. It was only fair.

The grand clock embedded halfway into the wall struck twelve at that moment, the chimes ringing over the soothing sound of strings. The stranger leaned into his face, and Jeonghan thought he was going to kiss him, debating whether or not he wanted to push him away. He had come to the conclusion that he didn’t mind much, when the stranger stopped just a couple centimetres away from his face.

“Merry Christmas. I think we’re allowed to go home now.”

And with the slightest brush of lips, he slipped something into the pocket of his suit jacket before disappearing into the crowd. Dumbfounded, Jeonghan could only stare after him with a hand pressed to his lips and the ghost of a kiss.

Later, Jeonghan would go home and find a name and phone number written on a slip of paper tucked into his pocket.

_Choi Seungcheol. xxx-xxx-xxxx._

And Jeonghan would wonder to himself once again whether he wanted to push him away or not, and once again came to the conclusion that he did not, in fact, mind all too much.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on twitter [ @chasinggstars_](https://twitter.com/chasinggstars_) !


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